


Unpredictable Job

by etheraele



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8222795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etheraele/pseuds/etheraele
Summary: A terrible accident leaves you paralyzed from the waist down. Three years later, countless care takers, countless jobs lost. Your mother had almost given up at this point, every single care taker that she had brought in to take care of you had either quit or lost their temper and got fired. Too many paralysis jokes? Maybe. Despite it, she gives a new worker a chance before she gives up on her job to take care of you.





	

“You’re fucking sick! Your sick sense of humor and your sick-” That’s how Albert quit being your care worker, so far the worst yet, his eggs and bacon tasted like plastic anyways. His hand to take a hit but your mother grabbed it mid air.

“Get out of my house! Take your things and go! Don’t expect this month’s paycheck either, Mr. Johnson!” Your mother roared, causing him to take a step back. He rushed out slamming the door behind him without saying another word. She let out a long sigh of exhaustion before letting her weight fall on the living room couch, rubbing her fingers against her temples.

You were silent and she was too. After a couple of moments you spoke up, “Why don’t we hire a professional company to send a care keeper?”

She groaned, “God, (Y/N), we don’t have the money. Even with your Dad and I working all the time we still can’t afford it.”

You nodded curtly in reply, you hated that you were causing this. That an accident had sent you and your family’s life tumbling down, and it was your fault.

“So what do we do?” You asked, your voice hushed down from the tense situation that had unfolded itself beforehand, “If you didn’t come home earlier today from work then-”

“Don’t. (Y/N), don’t make me think about that, okay?” She interjected earning another shy nod from you, “One last worker. If it doesn’t work then… we’ll go from there, alright?”

You nod in reply, not really knowing what else to say. What else could you say?

“You must be Mr. Drake.” Your mother greeted, opening the door before Sam even had a chance to ring the doorbell. She stepped aside letting him inside, he extended his hand.

“Samuel Drake.” He introduced, your mother did the same introducing herself. She led him to the same old couch in the living room, sitting across from him.

“So, why do you want to be a caretaker, Mr. Drake?” She inquired earning a nod from him before a reply,

“I really like caring for people.” He replied curtly, lying. He didn’t. He was just desperate for money. She went on with questions, each one lowering her hope.

Any other clients? No.

Any experience? No, (Y/N) would be my first client.

Any other jobs? No I’d be working full time.

Three strengths? Agile, resourceful and-

“Then why are you here?” Your mother snapped, her eyes squinting, “How fast of a learner are you?” 

“Very fast. I pick up on things quickly.” He replied, earning a sigh from your mother. Just as she was going to open before you came driving in, head tilted back screaming.

“Oh um… did I do something wrong?” Sam asked his eyebrows furrowing his brows, “Do I smell like cigarettes I uh-”

Your mother bit her lip to stifle a laugh, “(Y/N)! That’s enough. Sorry my child has a very unique sense of humor.”

You sighed before returning to normal, Sam, seemed confused. He kept glancing to your mother, then back to you. You would’ve assumed this is the part where he storms out, but he didn’t. Not yet, anyway.

“Okay, he’s got the job.” You say, breaking the silence.

“(Y/N), We haven’t even finished the interview yet-” 

“No, really. I like him.” You look at Sam not breaking eye contact for a while, “You start today, good?”

“Sure thing, darling.” He agreed, you frowned.

“It’s (Y/N).” Your mother corrected him before walking off, she came back with a binder filled with papers, “That’s about her medication, she has to get them at these exact times.” She went on, Sam listening intently, he couldn’t not pay attention.

When the next day came around, it was time for him to start working alone. Just you and him, your mother and father had gone to work. Leaving you two alone in an awkward silence.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, “I can make us something to eat.”

“I am kind of hungry.” You admitted twiddling with your thumbs. At first thought you thought having a handsome guy as your caretaker sounds amazing. On second thought, you were regretting it. You didn’t want him to see you how you were.

“Alright.” He clapped his hands together, “Chef’s choice?” 

You nodded meekly in reply watching him walk away into the kitchen. Your mother had set you on the couch and she left for work. Your wheelchair was on the other side of the room and at the moment, you were stuck on the couch. Usually, you’d ask your care taker to either bring you the wheelchair or to bring you to the wheelchair. Usually they’d notice and help you. Today wasn’t usually, though.

You didn’t want to ask him just yet to move you, so you were stuck on the couch for the longest time. He came back with two plates and found you, still on the couch,

“Oh you’re still here.” He mentioned, when you glanced to your wheelchair he got the message, “Oh, sorry! Right, forgot you can’t really move your legs and all.” He chuckled and you let out a small hum as a laugh.

You weren’t really used to the caregivers to be this blunt. Usually you were the one being blunt after the first couple of days. He picked you up bridal style, and if it was possible you would’ve jumped off out of shame. After he placed you back in your chair you murmured a small thanks and drove off to the table. 

His cooking was alright, to put it lightly. Your mother probably forgot to mention t hat you had a grill maker considering the fact he had made them on the stove, it was of a lesser relevance right now. 

“So, what happened?” He asked nodding towards your legs. You looked down at your legs, almost forgetting that you couldn’t move. 

“What happened to you?” You retaliated, frowning.

“What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong with me.” You scoffed at his response before replying,

“Then why do you look like you just got out of prison?” You paused, “Have you been in jail before?” 

“Yeah, 13 years.”

“What? No way, you’re lying.” your eyes widened as you drove in reverse from the table, “You know one time this other guy told me he was related to Madonna.”

“Was he?” 

“I-I don’t think so.” You looked away, “Therefore I know you haven’t been in prison for 13 years.” 

He began lifting his shirt up and you put your hands out defensively, “Hey, hey, hey. At least buy me a drink first? You can’t just start undressing in front of me.” You stammered earning a laugh from him.

“I have living proof I was in prison.” He pointed towards his scars and you nodded slowly, sure, what a liar.

“I’m still calling bullshit. Don’t you have a criminal record?” He put his shirt back down before you could stare more, “Okay, let’s say you were in prison, why were you there, tough tony?” 

He was silent and it earned a loud, sarcastic laugh from you, “You need to cook up better stories Mr. Drake, let’s see now, was Hector Alcazar your cellmate? Or was it Ted Bundy?” 

“Okay you got me. Your turn, what’s wrong with you?” He urged you to tell him earning an eye roll from you.

“My ego and pride paralyzed me.” You said crudely earning a laugh from him. He left it at that, noticing you didn’t want to tell him what had happened.

As to yours and his surprise, the awkward silence had passed and you had spent most of the day talking, which was very rare for your care takers. He asked you about your care takers.

“You know, for a darling like you I’m surprised so many people quit.” 

“Wait how do you know-”

“You’re kind of a hot topic for people who want to be care takers.” He smiles at you, awaiting your reaction.

“Am I now? I feel popular. All good reviews, I hope.” You say jokingly earning a nervous laugh from him, he places his hand on the back of his neck, “I’m assuming I have one star reviews on yelp?”

“Something like that.” He took out his cigarette and gestured towards the door, “Care to keep me company?” 

You nodded, leading the way to the backyard so he could have his puff.

“So, Mr. Drake-”

“You don’t have to call me Mr. Drake.” He corrected.

“Okay. So, smokey. Why do you want to be my care taker?” You ask raising an eyebrow.

“I told you I like taking care of people-”

“Um, yeah, that’s bullshit. Why do you really want to be my caretaker?” You smiled teasingly, “Saw a picture of me and wanted to get it on with a paraplegic?”

He shook his head laughing, which kind of disappointed you. Then again, what were you expecting? 

He broke the record at seven months. No one had made it that far without quitting or being fired, and you were impressed. He had told you about his little ‘adventures’, how he’d go treasure hunting. You called bullshit on every single one, this man was out of his mind. 

Despite all the bull, he made you laugh. No one had made you laugh in a really long time. You made yourself laugh, but no one else made you laugh. You could see the shock on your parents faces when they walked in and saw you beaming a genuine smile. Not a sarcastic one, not a smug grin, a real, genuine smile.

You had stopped calling him Smokey around two months, and started calling him Sam. And he had stopped calling you (Y/N), instead he started calling you darling or babe. It really gave you the wrong idea sometimes.

It was a late Thursday evening when your parents had brought it up, Sam had left when they got there and it was dinnertime now.

“Something tells me you actually like this care taker?” Your father asked before taking a mouth full of pasta in his mouth.

“He’s alright. He smokes a lot, that’s his only vice so far.” You try to hide a smile.

“(Y/N), we’re both smokers.” your parents say at the same time causing them to glance at each other for a moment.

“Then there’s nothing wrong with him, yet.” 

“Good, at least he’s earning his paycheck then.” your mother chuckled, that’s when it hit you. He was getting paid, he wasn’t doing this out of his own interest. His interest was money, not you.

“Yeah… I suppose he is.” You mumbled before taking a gulp.

You heard the front door open, you heard the rain and the thunder from outside, “Okay so I know I’m not supposed to get you fast food, but I totally did because you have got to try these they’re amazing.” 

He found you in your room, staring outside blankly. It was thundering outside but you didn’t seem to mind. All you did was stare. 

“Okay so this is what I got, I got burgers and those um…” He paused searching for the right word to use, “Onion hoops! Yeah, I love those onion hoops.” 

You didn’t reply, instead you stared at the rain hitting the window. 

“You alright?” He asked once he noticed how unresponsive you were, “I got something to cheer you up.” He shook the bag with the food hoping to get a reaction from you, yet, nothing. 

“I also have this maybe surprise for you.” Nothing, no reaction.

“Oh.” You replied, still staring at the window.

“Oh? That’s it?” He shifted on one leg to get a better look at you, “Really, what’s wrong?” 

You bit your tongue not really wanting to snap at him, but you did want to. You wanted to tell him how fake he was, how he’s doing it all for the money. But was that the case? 

“It’s nothing of importance.” You rotated your wheelchair before driving away from the window, careful not to drive of Sam’s feet. 

“I mean it’s clearly important if you’re acting this way.” He grabbed the food and rushed after you, picking up his pace so he could walk by your side. You stopped mid hallway and continued your blank stare at the wooden floors.

The truth was you had caught feelings for him, feelings that couldn’t be returned on his side. You couldn’t tell him and you wouldn’t, too risky. He was a great care giver and you weren’t going to ruin that over a crush. I

You remember what your mother said, if he didn’t work well then she’d probably end up quitting her job. Your family wouldn’t be able to manage, hell, they barely made it now let alone with your mother not working. 

“(Y/N)?” Sam asked before putting his hand on your shoulder, his touch sent a little spark running through you and you drove forward a little bit to avoid it.

“Yeah? Sorry, just thinking.” You turned your head giving him the most genuine smile you could forge right now, “So, what’d you get?” You rotated to face him properly.

“Oh no, no, no. You are so not doing that.” He scoffed glancing to his right before kneeling down so he could be at the same level ass you, “You can tell me, you know.” 

“Bad headache.” You retaliated a bit too quickly, earning a ‘Bullshit look’ from Sam. You sighed before correcting yourself, “You’re only doing this so you get paid, right?”

He didn’t say anything and you took his silence as an agreement, “If you stopped getting paid you wouldn’t even want to talk to me.” 

You bit your lip as soon as you felt your eyes welling up, you regretted telling him. Now that he knew, he’d most definitely quit his job. The last care giver, the last chance was going to leave. You brought your head down staring at your lap, legs that used to work but now they wouldn’t. Now they were just… there. 

“I wouldn’t stop talking to you, for the record.” He reassured you before standing up from his kneeling position, “You’re kind of a big deal, you know.” 

“What?” you tried your best not to stammer.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t ditch you for the world, darling.” He bent down to your level again bringing his face to yours. Before you knew it, he pressed his lips against yours, you didn’t drive backwards.

Two weeks later, Samuel Drake resigned as your care taker but continued as your boyfriend and a friend. Your mother, after seeing Samuel and the effect he had on you, decided to continue hiring care takers.

She had employed a nice old woman that went by the name of Janice. She was certainly kind, but she was also disturbed by your odd sense of humor. On your next birthday when Sam came to visit he was greeted with Janice sobbing. 

He ran into your room and found you on the floor, finally at peace. Both Janice and Samuel knew how special you were.

You, of course, were faking.

Janice quit the next day.


End file.
